A Reason to Live
by fscomeau
Summary: Twenty years after a deadly fungus infection has wiped most of the population, Andrew cares little for the military, the Fireflies and the games they play. But everything is about to change as he meets Kali, a somewhat rude, yet clever thirteen-year-old girl on a very specific mission. 30-chapters story, updated every thursday!
1. Prologue

All of a sudden, his brother's decision made a lot more sense.

Andrew didn't want to return. Not after what he had lived the last time.

What would his father think of him?

In his family, being a marine was a tradition. It just wasn't even a choice. His great-grandfather had fought in World War I, killing Germans. His grandfather had participated in World War II, eliminating Nazis. His father had been in Vietnam, killing Viet Cong. He had fought in Iraq, fighting "terrorists" – no wait, what did they call them already? "Insurgents," of course.

Slowly, Andrew cleaned the pistol his grandfather had given him during their last moments together - right as he was leaving for Iraq. "I'm not worried about you!" had said his grandfather. "This pistol has brought me back from Germany, it will bring you back from Iraq!" In a way, the lucky charm had worked: it had kept his grandfather alive as long as he had it, and not a day more.

Andrew had not been able to bring his gun in the combat zone, of course (it would have made him look like a cowboy), but that simple gift had made him feel proud of serving his country. Even after all these years, the pistol, a wonderful Colt 1911 Smith & Wesson Model 1917, remained in perfect condition. His grandfather referred to it as "the perfect pistol." Andrew cleaned it every day since his return; it reminded him of the man who taught him everything.

"We humans love to believe we are some kind of superior beings," had said his grandfather after handing him the gun, "but the truth is, we are much more primitive, much more violent than we would care to admit. Humans, Andrew, are animals. Never forget that. And every now and then, humans like to go crazy and kill each other. It happened before – many, many times - and it will happen again, believe me. And when it does happens, grandson, let me give you one piece of advice: find something worth living for, find _a reason to live _and fight for it - or you will die, even if you survive."

Andrew never truly knew what exactly his grandfather had lived through, or seen, during the war. He knew, from war archives, that his grandfather had liberated a concentration camp.

There had been no concentration camps for Andrew in Iraq: only sand, heat, suffering, IEDs, snipers, ambushes, drones and, ultimately, death. If there was one word to associate with war, it had to be the most simple one: death.

He could remember her as clear as day. She couldn't have been much older than ten. That day, he had shot her dead without even hesitating.

He didn't want to return.

Depressed and just a bit drunk, Andrew turned on the television. He had to think about something else. To his surprise, an emergency broadcast was reporting "riots" all over the country. All "military personnel" were ordered to report to their commanding officers immediately for further instructions.

Andrew sighed. Riots… His father had spoken of antiwar protesters in his time. But it was 2013 already: no one cared about the Iraq war anymore. Angry, cursing the day he decided to join the Army (was that even a decision he took?), Andrew put on his military uniform, picked his special pistol and went to his car. Even off-duty, apparently, he remained a marine.

There was one positive thing about the whole thing. In the meantime, it meant not having to go back to Iraq, and he was quite fine with it.

**My first story published, ever! Thank you for taking the time to check it. New chapter every Thursday. I welcome and appreciate all feedback, thank you!**


	2. 1- A Dog and a Pony Trap

A Dog and a Pony Trap

_20 and some years later_

Proteins.

That's how the military did it. That's how they kept everything and everyone under control. They fed civilians in quarantine zone only sugar and fat. Without proteins, vital to develop and maintain physical strength, the population stood weak and feeble; they felt bloated and tired, they were unable to organize a revolt.

Proteins, Andrew knew, was the key to survival, especially in the wild. And in this especially cold and cruel winter, _traps_ were pretty much his only reliable source of quality food. Using bear traps to catch squirrels, rabbits and other small critters perhaps wasn't the best idea, but it was the only one he had.

But for some time now, someone had been stealing catches from his traps. Several times, he would come to notice blood near his trap, but nothing more. A wild animal such as a wolf would have left the carcass or at least tuffs of fur around.

Andrew knew exactly who was behind it: hunters. They had been tracking him for some time already; they knew he had stuff to steal and loot. A warm place to live and a good bed were all too rare twenty years after the infection. A couple of times, he had noticed human prints in the snow. They were tracking him.

To solve the theft problem, Andrew had resorted to check his traps earlier and earlier. To a certain point, it worked. Today, Andrew had caught two rabbits; with the fur, he would try to make some slippers. His last pair, sown by his mother, had worn out years ago. With the meat, he would make a big, tasty stew. The only thing missing would have been a person to share it with. It would have been nice, maybe, to have someone to talk to. But Andrew knew that was not possible: everyone he had partnered with had ended betraying him.

Andrew had to be very cautious at all time; he feared an ambush more than anything, like in Iraq. Every single of his traps could literally be "a trap." They, too, were probably hungry. Oddly enough, hunters never stole the traps themselves, nor did they move them around – perhaps they had hoped he would simply not notice. In any event, Andrew had no intent to fight them heads-on.

After twenty something years and several winters, his traps were becoming much more used up, sometimes even rusty. To say that his grandfather had bought them, fearing a Nazi invasion! Slowly, he reactivated his latest trap, covering it in a small layer of snow.

It was at that precise moment he heard it. No doubt: it was a yell. A desperate, loud, human yell, from quite a distance, echoed by the mountains. It was a female, or at least a man with a very feminine voice. He could have simply ignored it and gone on with his life, of course, but after nearly a year of living completely alone, doing his best to avoid any interaction at all, Andrew was… C_urious_. Yelling, in general, was the best way to quickly get killed by a clicker.

As he got nearer to the source of the noise, Andrew heard the same yell. As he got closer, he clearly heard two voices. Sitting on the ground, a leg caught in one of his trap, a young girl was yelling at three men, a tiny, but otherwise long gun pointed at them.

"Don't fucking touch me!" yelled the girl. "Go away, go the fuck away!"

The girl had lost a lot of blood; it was surprising she had not already passed out. In a couple of minutes, an hour at best, she would be dead. For a moment, Andrew shivered, considering the "tasty stew" he could make. It was definitely the most "protein-rich" catch his trap had ever gotten caught. "That's what happens when I'm alone for too long," he thought. "My own ideas start scare me."

"Well, look at that. That's quite a catch," said the man in front, clearly the leader of the pack.

"I'll fucking shoot you!" yelled the girl. "One step closer and I'll shoot you!" Andrew wondered how the girl had gotten a rifle and, most of all, why she hadn't shot yet. Looking closer at it, however, he quickly realized she was holding a simple BB gun. A toy – nothing like his Colt. No surprise the men weren't scared.

"We'll have to cut your leg, lady. We won't let it go to waste, don't worry. We have a couple of dogs who are very, very hungry."

No doubt: these men were hunters. Completely equipped with high-quality hunting guns, revolvers and knives, they were professionals. Survivors.

The girl lined her shot perfectly on the head of the old man, but it was pointless: she wasn't going to scare them much with a BB gun. At best, she would momentarily stun him. "Sorry, young girl," thought Andrew. "I hope you die quickly and do not suffer too much."

"Okay, that's enough bullshit," said one of the other two hunters. "I'm shooting her.."

"Don't waste a bullet," said the third man. "She isn't strong enough to open the trap by herself and I doubt she can ramp very far. We'll come back in a few hours after she has bled out."

"We aren't going anywhere," replied the old hunter. "At least not without her."

The leader was confident; smiling, he approached the young girl slowly, his hands pointed towards her. All of a sudden, the girl pulled the trigger, shooting the old man in the head. To Andrew's complete surprised, he immediately fell on the ground, dead. Andrew had played with BB gun as a child (he received one each year for his birthday); there was no way one could kill someone. Except, of course… Squinting his eyes, Andrew realized how she had done it: she had shot him _right in the eye._ The bullet had passed through the soft eye directly in the brain; an extremely accurate shot from ten feet.

Within a second, a hunter had his hunting rifle raised, pointed towards her. Instinctively, without even truly understanding what he was doing, Andrew raised his pistol, shooting twice at the man with the hunter holding a rifle. Then, he ran towards towards the third man, shooting every bullet he had left. For a second, he felt proud of finally getting some payback over those thieves, but he quickly started to regret his action. "That's one way to waste six bullets," he thought.

There was no hope for the girl to survive anyway – not here, not in the wild, not in this era. Her leg was broken, first of all, and that was more than a simple problem to solve. In a way, she had been lucky; she had walked on a relatively small trap. Had she walked on a real bear trap, her long would have been long gone and she would have bled out in a minute.

She had lost way too much blood. In a way, in this world, losing any amount of blood was already losing "too much," but Andrew knew she would more than likely need a transfusion. It was a miracle she had not already passed out. Even if he could get somehow give her blood and somehow fix her leg, infection would kill her within days anyway

The hunters had much better rifles than him. They had warm clothes, too – he could find a use for them. Trade them, at the very least. Looking at the blood on them, however, he quickly regretted not shooting them in the head. He had shot from pretty far, of course, but his grandfather could have done it. Looking at the young girl – possibly not even a teenager yet, he immediately thought about her clothes; not that they could fit him, obviously, but they, too, deserved to be looted. They were high-quality, neat clothes. Somewhere in the nearest quarantine zone, a young girl would be very happy.

"What's in the bag?" asked Andrew stoically. He had noticed she was holding a large, brown schoolbag tightly against her. From the top, he could see a few books in it – worthless – and what looked to be food. There were two small figurines attached to the right side of the bag: two ponies, one pink and one purple. A couple of pins were attached to the front of the bags, some of them flags of countries around the world, others characters from cartoons. There was something a bit "childish" about the girl. After so many years of war and fighting, Andrew thought it was refreshing.

"None of your fucking business!" replied the young girl.

Andrew laughed. "It's okay, you'll be dead in an hour, I'll come back and check then." For a minute, Andrew feared other hunters might have heard the shots, but decided it was unlikely.

"You're not going anywhere!" replied the girl, strangely not scared. "I counted the shots, sir" she said with a smile. "Six shots. From a six-barrels revolver."

"So?" replied Andrew, unaltered.

"So you're out of ammo. Have to reload. I took the rifle from one of the two guys you shot. It's loaded. You're going to get me out of this trap and if you move away from me, I will shoot you in the back. You know I can do it."

It was true. As Andrew was getting closer, the teenage girl had ramped to the body of the second hunter and grabbed his rifle. Andrew wished he could have told her it was pointless, that she would be dead within hours, days at best, but it was pointless. In all fairness, he admired her combative spirit, her determination to live. Andrew shook his head; she had won this round.

"I'm Kali, by the way. What's your name?"

"It doesn't matter. Do you have something soft in your bag?"

Kali, if that was even her real name, pulled a small teddy bear from her bag. Andrew couldn't help but laugh: a teddy bear. Not only was this young girl walking alone in a forest, she was carrying a toy with her. Clearly, she had misunderstood what survival was about.

Andrew told her to bite in it and started to work on opening the trap. Almost immediately, Kali started to yell in pain; the metal teeth of the trap were moving, cutting yet more of the flesh of her leg. The release mechanism, however, was tightly stuck; rusty after years of use, it simply refused to budge. There was no way to open the trap. Doing her best to hold back her tears from the pain, Kali suddenly said: "Andrew! That's your name!"

"How do you know that?"

"You have a tag around your neck. You're a soldier!"

"Was," he thought to himself. All of a sudden, he realized there was no way to open the trap; it didn't matter anyway, her leg was far too injured to be saved. But if that girl wanted to get out of that trap, well, she would. Andrew pulls his penknife out, a gift from his younger brother from another era. There was a small saw, not much longer than three inches, on it. It would have to do.

"Now, bite even harder, because this is going to hurt." Andrew, this time, wasn't laughing. He had cut flesh and bones before, in Iraq, and it was never fun. One of the hunter had some rope on him; that would make an acceptable tourniquet. It was below the knee. Two decades ago, she could have lived a relatively normal life. But now, it was more likely she would be shot by the military or simply die of starvation.

"No! No! Don't do that. Don't. Don't or I will shoot you!"

"I have no choice, Kali. This trap is shut down tight. I'm sorry, okay?" Slowly, he started to craft a tourniquet. "I might as well shoot her," he thought to himself. It was going to hurt her badly. With one leg, how could she run away from a clicker or even defend herself? What use would she even have in any quarantine zone? Clearly, shooting her would be the humane thing to do –mercy killing.

"If you get anywhere close to me with that thing, I will fucking shoot you!" But the girl was starting to tremble; weakened from blood loss, she had difficulties even holding the rifle straight. In one quick motion, Andrew disarmed her and threw the gun behind him.

"I'm sorry, Kali. Your leg can't be saved anyway. It's going to hurt quite a bit, so bite tightly, or you will break your teeth."

But to his complete surprise, the girl wasn't out of ideas yet. Immediately, she pulled out a knife, and pointed it… Towards her own throat.

"If you get anywhere near me with that thing, I will slit my own throat."

Oh, this girl could be clever – so, so clever.

"So do it, then!" Andrew smiled. What was she thinking?

"Ever wondering what I was doing alone in this forest, Andrew? All alone in the middle of winter?"

"I don't care," replied Andrew.

"I have to deliver something. Something very, very important to a very particular person. Something that must be delivered at all costs. And you want to know to who?"

"I don't care," repeated Andrew. What, Kali was playing a "courier girl" now?

There was one and exactly one name Kali could have said to immediately save her life, and her leg. There was one and only name that would make Andrew actually consider the idea of helping Kali.

"I have to deliver something to Marlene".

**NOTE: Thank you for all support. As always, your feedback is more than welcome! I read and reply to all of it. **


	3. 2- A Trail of Blood and Sweat

**2- A Trail of Blood and Sweat**

That's the best she had been able to come up with, really.

The man was a soldier and soldiers hunted down Fireflies. At the very least, he would want to interrogate her.

Kali didn't want to loser her leg. She knew all too well what happened to amputees. She wasn't stupid: she knew her leg was in a bad shape. Yet, she couldn't get her mind around the simple fact that she would most likely lose it, almost desperately clinging to the idea of being able to walk again.

Kali hadn't lied, neither: she really was on a mission to deliver something to Marlene. Something very, very important: many lives depended on a successful delivery.

"To Marlene, really?" asked the man, more than curious. Kali realized her plan worked, and smiled at him. "And what is it?" asked the man.

"Get me out of the trap, Andrew. WITHOUT cutting my leg!"

Andrew sighed heavily, shaking his head. The trap was rusted shut. How would he even get her out? A wielder, maybe? Acid? Younger, he had always fantasized about lasers. A total Star Wars fan, he had always dreamed of studying space. An engineer, that's what he would have wanted to become.

Andrew used one of the two rifles as a lever, inserting the canon between the teeth and trying to force the trap open. Kali yelled in pain again and again until, finally, she started to cry.

"Okay, okay… Cut it. Just cut it. Just fucking cut it."

She was getting delirious; the pain, the blood loss and the stress had taken a huge toll on her. In a few minutes, she would fall unconscious. Andrew sighed: at this point, he had begun to see it as a challenge.

"A real engineer would have found a way," he thought to himself. Damn his father for making him join the Army. As soon as he had turned 18, his father had invited one of his "friend" home. Andrew was so young. He was confused by everything the man said – something about free college, free education, adventure, traveling, teamwork, giving the best of yourself… Meeting people, travelling, being a hero! "I'm proud of you, my son," said his father, holding a pair of keys as the officer got out recruitment papers.

His dad had bought him a car. Andrew signed. He had been stupid. He had no real idea what was going on. At this point, the letter of admission from the MIT in his room was very far away.

Fat had wanted that he was actually much better off in this world as a marine than an engineer. Still, an engineer would have gotten Kali out of the trap. If only he was at his house – more a lodge than a house, really – he would have had all his and his father's tools. There was no time to go and bring everything back. But… If he couldn't bring the tools to her, maybe he could bring _her_ to the tools?

Using both hunting rifles, Andrew immobilized her leg, putting one on each side. Inserting both canons into the openings of the traps, he tied everything together with the rope from the hunter, as to immobilize everything. Using the clothes from the dead hunters – what a waste, really, he could have gotten a good price for them – he applied the best bandage he could manage. Finally, he took Kali in his arms, lifting her without effort, holding her neck with one arm and the trap with the other.

It was far from a comfortable position, and after only a few minutes carrying her that way, his arms were starting to get heavy. Also, Andrew knew Kali was suffering from the trap, still biting in her leg. And yet, she couldn't help but look at him directly in the eyes, smiling.

"What?" asked Andrew, a little bit irritated.

"Nothing," replied Kali. "It's just… I've never been carried in the arms of someone before."

"Really, not even your dad?"

"Nope," said Kali. "Nope… And it feels so great. It's like traveling on a pony."

"I noticed your figurines. So you like ponies, huh?"

"Yeah, you could say that, Andrew. Never been on one though. Never even seen a real one, actually." Kali closed her eyes as Andrew walked, relaxed and happy.

"DON'T fall asleep!" yelled Andrew suddenly. Kali instantly opened her eyes. His Army formation was helping. Legs elevated, head slightly higher… "Take deep breaths, Kali," he added. "We got this, together."

"Yeah, we got this, you carry me and I… I don't sleep. Okay," joked Kali.

A little bit of blood started to drop on his arm, the one holding the trap. Without even realizing it, Andrew began to walk faster. Kali wasn't heavy, but every step seemed harder than the one better. "That delivery better worth it," he thought to himself.

"I'm closing my eyes, but I'm not falling asleep, okay?" said Kali.

A long time ago, Andrew's "house" had been his father's hunting lodge. He had vivid memories of his vacations hunting deers. His father was a passionate, his hunting skills unmatched; it was with joy that he had passed them down to his son.

His lodge was definitely one of the things his father had been the most proud of. Hand-built, customized, the 2,500 sq. feet, one stage building contained a kitchen, two bedroooms, a living a room, a work atelier as well as a cold room for storing fresh kills. Being so far from any major town, the building was powered by a gas generator. Months before the infection, his father – concerned with rising oil prices - had installed four large panels on the roof. That was definitely his technological side. On clear days, Andrew could power a small oven.

"You have such a nice house, Andrew!" said Kali, finally opening her eyes. After twenty years, the forest had grown around it, providing a decent cover from view.

As they entered the room, Kali started to look around the house. A lot of hunting trophies, several photographs – Andrew had played baseball, much younger – a large library of books, an American flag held high. Tea supplies, too and a nice, clean kitchen. Kali knew how to recognize quality furniture; the couch in particular looked extremely cozy and Kali began to think about how good it would be to fall asleep on it.

However, Andrew decided to drop her on the kitchen table, a bit more rudely than Kali would have wanted. Immediately he went to pick a can of lubricant. WD-40. There was no use saving some for later: Andrew covered her exposed leg with another tissue and generously applied the product on any and every metal part of the trap. Using a large pair of pliers, he immediately opened the trap and threw it around the room. "Here, you bitch!" said Andrew. Kali clapped to applaud it. He had done it.

Her leg was in a very bad condition. Shaking his head – this message better be worth it – Andrew opened a bottle of cognac, one of his last. His dad's favorite: Henessy. Could cognac even be used to disinfect a wound? He didn't know and he didn't care. In a way, it was a blessing that alcohol could be kept forever. Andrew thought about offering her a sip for a moment, but finally decided against it. "Not at thirteen," he thought.

Kali yelled in pain almost as soon as the alcohol touched her leg. "The man is trying to save your leg, Kali. Don't scream!" she thought to himself. Then, Andre opened a bottle of clean water – again, a waste- and washed her wound properly. He bandaged her leg using clean tissue, and then crafted a proper splint.

Andrew dropped her on a couch, very softly this time, and covered her with a small blanket. Definitely cozy. Then, Andrew went cooking: there was no need to waste two perfectly good rabbits. It was a recipe from his mother; had his dad been there, he would have insisted on grilling them on the barbecue. That damn barbecue had been sitting there for twenty years, unused. Trying to survive changes how you think: for twenty years, Andrew, knowing his propane tank would only last so long, hesitated to use it, always wanting to save it for later. "If I use it now, I won't be able to cook when I really need it," he often thought.

"Will my leg be okay?" asked Kali nervously.

There was no use lying to the young woman. The splint would maintain the fracture immobile for some time, but what Kali really needed was a real doctor, a real diagnosis and a real cast. Andrew started to skin the rabbit; Kali turned her head away. Suddenly, he had a strong urge to use the fur to make something for Kali. Warm gloves, maybe?

"So, the delivery, Kali," asked Andrew. "What is it? What do you have to give to Marlene? Or did you just make that up so I would help you?" Kali didn't reply, fixing her leg, gently massaging it.

"Answer me, Kali!"

"You haven't answered my question, why would I answer yours?"

Furious, Andrew grabbed her bag and began to search it. However, there was nothing of importance in it: clothes, a few books, a few drawings, some basic survival items, nothing more.

"You won't find what you're looking for in there," she said.

"Did you hide it somewhere? Where is it?" Andrew insisted again, but it was of no use: Kali plain and simply refused to talk. For a second, Andrew remembered a tuime back in Iraq as his commanding officer waterboarded an insurgent for answers – answers that would save lives. Could he even do the same a teenage girl? Andrew imagined his father sitting next to him: "You shoot them, I don't think waterboarding is such a step up."

Andrew went back preparing dinner. Maybe he could get some answers if he played nice with some food.

"Andrew, why do you have a crossbow on the wall?" asked Kali.

"It's for hunting, Kali."

"I know, but why not a bow instead? Bows are so much simpler."

"Because a crossbow shoots stronger than a bow, Kali."

"Yeah, right. An arrow is an arrow."

"Not at all, Kali. Not at all. Crossbows are much stronger, in fact. When Conquistadors conquered South America, for example, the natives used bows and arrows to fight them. But Spaniards at the time wore an armor composed of steel plates. Arrows weren't powerful enough to break through the armor and kill them; they just bounced off. Crossbows and bolts, on the other hand, were powerful enough to break through the steel."

Kali seemed fascinated by his words. Andrew still had a few potatoes and onions from summer, as well as a few carrots. This stew would be delicious, the best he had made in a long time. Andrew brought the first bowl to Kali, but right as she was about to take it, he backed away.

"What do you have to deliver, Kali? Tell me and this bowl is yours.

She was about to start crying. She looked at him desperately; she looked like she hadn't eaten in weeks.

"I… I can't tell you Andrew, I'm sorry. Really story"

"Then no stew for you. Hmm, can you smell that? Perfectly good rabbit, with carrots… Looks delicious!" Andrew pulled a chair, and sat right in front of her, licking his lips. At this moment, he could have sworn the young woman was about to start crying. He hadn't planned to share his stew anyway. But honestly, was he really going to let her starve? He had plenty enough for two. Was he really just going to eat right in front of a starving young woman, all this for one supposed delivery? Andrew sighed, and handed the bowl to Kali, who immediately grabbed it and ate it voraciously within second, even licking the bowl.

"You sure are hungry, Kali. When's the last time you ate?"

"Don't remember. Couple of days ago."

No doubt in his mind: she deserved the food more than him. He could manage. Andrew handed her a second a second bowl, and then a third. Finally, she seemed full, satisfied, and Andrew ate the fourth bowl.

"Thank you, Andrew," she said happily.

"You're welcome. There is no delivery to Marlene, is there?"

"There definitely is, Andrew. I wasn't lying to you. Thousands and thousands of lives may depend on it. But I cannot tell you more, I'm sorry."

Andrew kept eating in silence. "What could it possibly be?" he wondered. Halfway through his bowl, Andrew stood up, and handed up a full bottle of water. Kali drank it in one shot. Those were hard to get, these days.

Finally fully satisfied, Kali laid back on the couch, looking completely exhausted.

"Kill me if you must, Andrew. I'm just happy I won't die hungry."

Suddenly, Andrew heard an explosion, followed by loud yells. There were people… Close, so close to his house. He heard a man yell in pain, then another; Andrew had hidden a few traps – automated gun, bobby traps and mines, just in case.

Rushing to the window, Andrew heard another explosion and heard screams. Almost immediately, he saw them, as if they had came out straight out of a nightmare. Hunters – more than a dozen of them. How? How could they find him?

"What's going on, Andrew?" asked Kali.

"They followed us here!"

Impossible! His place was too hard to find and on the outside, it simply looked abandoned. How could they all come here? All of a sudden, Andrew heard bark. _Tracking dogs, _that's how they had done it!They had followed the trail – _her _trail, from all the blood on the ground. A trail of blood and sweat!

He was so stupid! Why had he brought her here anyway! What a dumb, stupid idea! For a year now, he had stayed perfectly hidden; for a year, he had been able to sleep peacefully in a warm house. And now, it was all over - he was discovered.

"Hey TRAPPER!" yelled a man. "We just want the girl, okay? Give her to us and we will leave you alone!"

He was lying, obviously; there was no way they would let him live, even if he could somehow blame the death of the two guys he shot on Kali. Quickly, Andrew looked through another window, and then another. He was surrounded.

"We know you stepped in a bear trap, darling. Don't worry about it, don't worry if you lost your leg. You won't need legs for what we're going to do with you. Hell, we'll even cut your other leg – make you symmetric."

They were laughing. Foul beasts, all of them. Kali told Andrew she was scared; he had to come with a plan. Twelve, fifteen… _Nearly twenty, all armed. _There was no way he could beat them – no way he could even consider it. He would be mowed down in a second – that was what was going to happen.

"I've got about twenty men here who are very hungry, darling. And when I say hungry…"

At this moment, he had an idea. Looking into his medicine cabinet, he found a syringe and a sedative. He wasn't sure how old it was, or even if it was prescribed for use on humans, or even if it was safe, but he had an idea…

Swiftly, Andrew placed what was left of the stew in the fridge. Then, he took a pen and a piece of paper and wrote: "Hey Kali. Going to hunt, will be back tomorrow morning. With what I gave you, you shouldn't wake up until I come back, but if you do, there is some stew in the fridge. Rest well." Yes, this could definitely work!

"This is an antibiotic, to make sure your leg doesn't get infected," said Andrew, as he pulled the sedative in the syringe.

He would hide in the cold room until night, until it was very dark. Hopefully they would be done looting by then, and would be gone – if not, at least, he could sneak out. Yes, this could definitely work.

"You're lying to me, Andrew!"

"I am not. Give me your arm now."

"HE'S IN HERE WITH ME RIGHT NOW!" yelled Kali as loud as she could. Then, looking back at him straight in the eyes, she added: "There, they know you're here, now. You won't get rid of me so easily. We're in this together, Andrew. As a team."

Momentarily stunned, Andrew soon became completely furious. At this moment, he had to resist a strong urge to strangle her. "You used to shoot them, now you strangle them. At least it's economical," would have said his father. She had given them not only their position, but their number. What an idiot, stupid child… After all he had done for her? But then again… Could he really blame her? Kali was only trying to save her own life. From an unbiased point of view, was it really so wrong?

But Andrew had no backup plan. There was nothing he could. There were too many of them. Period. _Twenty_. It was hopeless. She had just sentenced both of them to death.

"Hey TRAPPER," yelled the same hunter. "You have five minutes to come out with the girl – we won't hurt you. If you don't come, then we'll come to get cha!"

Andrew looked at Kali again, terrified. "You got me out of the trap, Andrew. You will get us out of here. I believe in you. You'll find a way."

**Appreciated the story? I would really like a little favorite and a comment :D. Thank you!**


	4. 3- Washington, QZ

During the first thirty seconds, Andrew did absolutely nothing.

For the very first time in years, he had to confront the very real possibility – probability, even - of dying. Even back in Iraq, he never truly felt he was about to die. He might have been lucky, but there had always been a drone, a patrol or reinforcements ready to assist him.

It was his commanding officer who had advised him to never panic. In a dangerous situation, panic is your worst enemy. Andrew wasn't dead yet: he still had time, but sadly no ideas. And Kali kept looking at him as if he should have had all the answers!

It was time to consider everything at his disposition. A can of gasoline from twenty years ago - long expired, useless. A lot of tools belonging to his father – hammers, screwdrivers, pliers, etc. He also had some stew left, half a bottle of cognac, basic first aid and survival material as well as various personal belongings: books, clothes, photo albums, etc. In short, nothing that could really get him out of the situation.

He had to start somewhere. Even if he somehow managed to formulate a plan, Kali couldn't even walk, let alone run! How could he even think about getting her out? For a moment, he considered simply leaving her there. Turning his head at his father's workshop, however, he noticed two old wheelbarrows, one with a broken wheel. That was one way to carry her.

"Take off your clothes, Kali," said Andrew rudely. He had to start somewhere.

"Why?" replied the young girl. There was no time to argue. Time was running out.

"REMOVE YOUR FUCKING CLOTHES OR YOU'RE DEAD!" yelled Andrew, out of himself.

Andrew had never been really skilled with children. His younger brother had always been the paternal one. His words were making Kali extremely anxious and even more so defensive; Andrew noticed she was holding her small knife tightly. He didn't have the time for that! Taking a deep breath, Andrew said slowly:

"Look Kali, these people tracked your scent. That's how they found us. Tracking dogs. You need to remove your clothes or they will keep tracking us, even if my plan to get us out works."

Kali opened in mouth in awe. "Oh, okay," she simply said. Almost immediately, without a hitch, she started to undress, cutting a part of her jeans to go around her splint

"Do… Do I need to remove my underwear too?" said the girl timidly.

"No. No need." Andrew doused her with gasoline. He had no idea if that would even work. He knew tracking dogs could be quite persistent and quite skilled. Handing her a sponge, he ordered her to brush herself vigorously.

A minute and a half gone. For the next minute, Andrew grabbed as much stuff as he could, filling the wheelbarrow almost completely. They weren't going to survive in the wild without water, bandages, food and weapons. He took the time to pick some personal belongings as well – a photo of his family the last time they were all together, several photo albums, his mom's personal cooking book (if humanity could somehow survive the infection, he would love to see this cooking book become a hit), a few model cars and, of course, the crossbows. Bolts could be reused; bullets couldn't. Of course, all of this was pointless without a plan to get out.

Half the time was already gone. Andrew handed Kali a few of the clothes he wore as a child. Looking at the cognac bottle, he momentarily thought about drinking it. "Dying drunk couldn't be so bad," he thought to himself.

Yet, he suddenly a much better idea on how to use it. A Molotov cocktail, obviously. Looking at the old barbecue, he had an even better idea, inspired by the IEDs he had met in Iraq. That propane tank was almost 20 years old, and it was almost full, he was sure of it. Propane never went bad or stale; that's how time he actually remembered not from his chemistry classes, but from King of the Hill.

Andrew dropped the propane in the wheelbarrow with the wheelbarrow, scared it could exploded at the slightest shock. "Wouldn't be a painful way to die," he thought. Then, he filled the wheelbarrow with everything metallic he could find – nails, screws, cogs, forks, pins, tools, anything. He left a small spot visible, as to be able to shoot it.

A minute left…

Andrew took Kali in his arm and dropped her in the wheelbarrow. Then, he handed her a hunting rifle, loaded. "You're a good shot, Kali. Shoot anyone that threatens us. Make every bullet count." Finally, Andrew pushed the wheelbarrow inside the cold room, handing her a pair of earplugs and keeping one for himself.

Thirty seconds…

Andrew tried to hide the entrance to the cold room the best he could. He pushed an old bookcase against it and covered it in old drapes. To say that this entire house would be gone forever in a few minutes at most…

As a kid, he had loved this place more than anything. He had so many fond memories in this place. Looking back at it, it was the only place in which he shared positive experiences with his father. Once, he remembered, he had fallen asleep late at night around a campfire and his father had carried him inside. Another, his father had bought him a BB gun and taught him how to shoot. He had never forgotten these moments. And now, this place was about to disappear; in a minute, it would be dust.

"WE'RE COMING IN, TRAPPER!" yelled a man.

"Good," thought Andrew. Come in. Slowly, he walked inside the cold room, the most solid room in the house. A long time ago, it used to be refrigerated; the walls were metallic and sturdy.

"We're going to die, aren't we?" whispered Kali. "Andrew, I am so scared."

"Shhhh Kali, we aren't going to die. Now, silence."

"Andrew! We're finished, we're dead, we won't get out of here alive. Andrew, don't let them get me alive. Please. If that comes to it, promise that you will shoot me."

"Kali, it won't come to that. I have a plan. They are coming in, hush now."

Andrew helped her put her earplugs on and closed the door to the cold room; two men broke a window and entered the living room. Two more broke the main door and another jumped in from a back window.

"CLEAR!" yelled a man. The order was repeated a couple of times around. Andrew heard loud footsteps all around the lodge.

"He's not here!" yelled another man. "Maybe he has a secret passage out, find him!"

Andrew heard more and more men enter by the windows. There must have been at least twelve of them in the house, and possibly more outside. Andrew heard someone open his wardrobe and understood that some of the hunters were already looting his place. It was now or never. Andrew lightened him his Molotov, and opened the door foot very softly by about a foot. There were four men standing, their backs turned to him.

Andrew hurled the Molotov as strongly as he could towards the propane tank; the fire immediately spread on the ground. Then, using the other hunting rifle he had looted from the three hunters, Andrew shot at the propane tank.

It worked. The blast immediately projected him back by a meter and had he not worn earplugs, he would have become deaf. The blast was incredible, projecting dozens and dozens of tiny metal shards all across the room, even by the windows.

Quickly, regaining his senses, Andrew kicked the door fully opened, ran behind the wheelbarrow with Kali and pushed it as fast as he could outside. Hopefully, whichever hunter survived the blast would be too stunned and too disoriented to react.

The scene was incredible. The house was almost completely destroyed; where they had been two solid walls, there were now two gaping holes. Everywhere, hunters laid dead, several of them ripped to shreds by several high-velocity metallic projectiles.

Without looking at the scene in details, Andrew pushed the wheelbarrow outside as fast as he could. More hunters were laying on the ground, stunned by the blast. Had he been more cruel or had had more time, Andrew could have pulled out his revolver and shot them while they were still laying on the ground, totally vulnerable; at this moment, however, Andrew was only thinking about one thing: getting as far away from this place as fas as he possible.

Running towards a small path, Andrew noticed a man to his right raising a shotgun at them. As he was pushing the cart with both his hands, he had no time to stop and take out his revolver. Kali, thankfully, was much faster and shot the man directly in the chest, saving both their lives. Kali shot another hunter as he was starting to stand him, ramping towards an assault rifle.

Andrew ran for a good fifteen minutes as fast as he could, taking various sharp turns. He couldn't believe it: they had made it. After fifteen minutes, Andrew slowed down, exhausted, euphoric to have survived. Kali, too, was rejoiced.

"You did it, Andrew! You did it!"

"We got lucky, Ka…"

"No we did not! You really destroyed them! Boom, boom, boom! And to say that for a second, I almost doubted you. Almost!"

"Almost, huh?" Andrew laughed heartily at her joke.

At this moment, it seemed the air was purer and every tree was greener than before. For the next few minutes, they talked about each other.

Kali, however, wasn't willing to part with much information. Andrew barely learned that she had lived in a camp all her life. It was a small settlement, protected by a makeshift wall, that acted as a village. Bandits raids and camps were frequent, but the town had always managed, protected by the men of the village, some of them great shooters. After a few minutes, Kali asked him to stop.

"Why?" asked Andrew.

"Andrew, stop please." Wondering what she could want, he obeyed. "Now, get closer."

"Why?" asked Andrew.

Kali asked again, and finally he walked closer to her. Kali told him to bring his face closer and Andrew leaned him. Then, suddenly, Kali kissed softly him on the cheek.

"Thank you for saving both of our lives, Andrew" she said on a serious and joyful tone. "You really were amazing today."

At this point, Andrew found himself at a loss for words. It was only after a few seconds that he realized Kali was the first person to touch him in almost a year. A long, dreadful year of barely… staying alive.

"You're very welcome, Kali. Great shot as we ran out. You saved us both too, Kali."

She smiled at him, and Andrew went back behind the wheelbarrow.

"Where are we going, Andrew?"

"We are going to Washington, Q.Z. I have friends there. My… My C.O. was based there."

"What's a C.O., Andrew?"

"It means my commanding officer. It's the man who gave me my orders while I was in the Army."

"Do you think Marlene will be there?"

"I don't know, Kali. But we have to go there to fix your leg. Hopefully we can find a doctor there… And medical supplies…"

Andrew had a few items to pay with if necessary. Then again, there was no guarantee the Quarantine Zone still even existed. Kali asked him if it was far away, and Andrew said it was "a few hours."

"Can I sleep this time?" she asked

Andrew laughed and told her to go ahead. He had brought a blanked that she used as cover

"Actually, I kind of want to keep you company. So, wanna play a game?"

"Huh, sure. What game do you have in mind?"

"Well, it's called 'The train'. You are the train, I am the passenger so every time I say 'Choo choo,' you gotta go as fast as you can!"

Andrew shook his head in disbelief and Kali aid "Choo choo" for the first time. Andrew didn't accelerate a bit. He was already so exhausted from his day that he saw no point nor interest in wasting more of his energy on such a childish matter. Kali dropped her shoulders in disappointment.

Finally getting on a road, Kali let out a soft, depressed "choo choo" and, this time, Andrew sprinted as fast as he could. Kali held the sides of the wheelbarrow and burst in laughter as Andrew started to slow down.

There was something soothing, calming, something even cheerful and uplifting hearing Kali laugh after saying "Choo choo!" It was all so simple to her. She had a broken leg, with no guarantees it would ever heal, she had been in terrible pain, and yet she could be happy with something so simple.

After her third successful chooing, Kali softly whispered:

"A message."

"What?" asked Andrew.

"What I have to deliver to Marlene, the head of the Fireflies. It's a message. That's why you would have never found it by looking through my bag."

Astonished, Andrew quickly blabbered: "About what?" Kali chose not reply.

"Is it about the military? Is it about the infection?" He knew the Fireflies were actively looking for a cure – the saviors of humanity! Kali, however, was decided not to say another word.

A message… On which thousands of lives depended… "Interesting," thought Andrew. Although she had promised to keep him company, Andrew found Kali to be even more exhausted than she looked. Using her bag as a pillow, she fell asleep a few minutes later. "At least, this means no more 'choo-chooing'," he thought to himself happily.

Andrew only woke her up as they approached Washington, Q.Z. A large concrete wall with watch towers and barbed wire protected the mythic city. Approaching the main door, Andrew heard a loud whistle and stopped; from the towers, he noticed two snipers aiming directly at him. Gently, the main door opened, and three US soldiers in heavy armor came running towards them.

**Chapter 3! Thanks for the follows and favorites, any and every feedback appreciated!**


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